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“I ain’t a child.”
“Then act like it.” She held out one hand and I took it and she pulled me to my feet. “Do you want me to command it? Cause I will, if that’ll get you to stop mooning over him.”
That got a grin out of me. “No, Captain.”
“Captain.” She laughed. “We’ll see how long they call me that.” She put her hand on my back. “Come on,” she said. “I’ll walk you inside.”
I let her. And for a minute, forgetting Naji didn’t seem totally impossible no more.
CHAPTER TEN
The manticore came to see me before we set sail the next day. I was up on the boat, screwing around with the rigging cause half the crew was too hungover to be of much use. One of the manticore’s servants crept across the deck, and I damn near tossed a pile of ropes on her.
“Mistress,” she whispered, keeping her eyes downcast. “Ongraygeeomryn would like to speak with you.”
I’d kinda been hoping I wouldn’t have to see the manticore before we left, cause I was still sore on account of what happened with Naji, even though I was trying real hard not to moon over him.
But I figured this was my chance to prove that I was strong and that I didn’t need him, the way I’d proved it last night, underneath the thin rough blankets of my bed.
“Tell her she can come talk to me when she’s ready,” I said.
The servant trembled. “Mistress,” she said. “The manticore doesn’t wish to come aboard…”
“Oh, hell.” Figures. “She on the beach, at least?”
“Yes, mistress.” The servant pointed a trembling finger off to the side. “My rowboat is in the water. She doesn’t wish to be kept waiting–”
“Of course she doesn’t.”
I rowed me and the servant back in to the beach, and sure enough, the manticore was stretched out on a quilted silk blanket on the sand, another servant standing beside her with a palm leaf.
“Girl-human!” she cried. “Did you enjoy your boon last night?”
“You mean Naji?”
“Of course! Such an easy one to enchant. Almost no convincing necessary at all.” She looked closer at me. “You did want him still, yes? He is your true love.”
Never mind the curse, I thought. But I didn’t say nothing. The manticore looked so damned pleased with herself.
“He was very…” I glanced off in the direction of the palace, hoping he wouldn’t show up while I was talking. “Skillful.”
The manticore looked puzzled for a moment. “Is that a good thing?”
“Uh, yeah.”
She beamed at me. “That is excellent news! We do not describe our matings as skillful; I shall remember that.”
Part of me wanted to ask her how she did it, if it really had been the ahiial, or some other manticore spell, maybe drawn out of the red desert sand. The sandcharmers in Lisirra could do that; I remembered from my trips to the night market. But what would be the point? It had happened, and not cause he wanted it.
Something else was bothering me, though.
“So he isn’t… he isn’t go
“Persist?” The manticore frowned. “No, girl-human. Love does not persist! It is allotted to us once a life-cycle.”
Oh. Like cats.
“The boon was only for one love-period,” the manticore said. Her eyes dimmed. “I could ask my father to recast it in perpetuity–”
“No!” I held out my hands. “No, it’s fine. Once was… once was enough.”
“Spoken like a manticore!” She smiled big and bright at me. “I knew you were of a superior mind to the servants.”
“I’m go
And even with the boon, I still meant it.
“When the Jadorr’a is free of his curse, you are always welcome to return him to us. Remember, it would do him a great honor.”
I just looked at her, although I thought about how easy it would be to cart him back here.
Easy, but not fair and wrong to boot. Dishonorable. Even if he had soul-hurt me a million and one ways.
No. I promised Marjani I wasn’t go
So I threw my arms around the manticore’s neck and gave her a big hug. She nuzzled me back, her mane tickling my nose.
“You are always welcome on the Island of the Sun as a guest,” she said. Her tongue swiped across my cheek and left my skin stinging. “With or without the Jadorr’a. You are always a friend.”
Jokja was two weeks’ sail from the Island of the Sun, through water bright and green as glass. It was an easy voyage. Once Naji found out where we were headed and why, he called down favorable winds every morning, and we had plenty of food. The best bit of all was that the crew listened to Marjani and called her captain. They didn’t even grumble about chasing after starstones, since our chase was taking us into Jokja. Plenty of treasure there if you know where to look.
Some afternoons I’d sit up in the riggings, whenever there wasn’t nothing else to do, and remember how I used to dream about captaining my own ship, knowing all along it was as impossible a dream as marrying into the Emperor’s family or becoming as powerful a witch as Mama. But Marjani had managed it easy enough. Maybe I could too.
The only trouble with the voyage was Naji. I did my best to avoid him after what happened. He and Marjani slept in the captain’s quarters, same as before, but I couldn’t stand the thought of sharing the cabin with him. So I dragged a hammock down to the crew’s quarters and cleared out a spot of my own in the corner. It was as awful as you’d expect, but better than having to spend my nights so close to Naji. Sometimes when I was close to him I felt like his thoughts were trying to crowd into mine. I hated it.
Daytime, it was easier to avoid him. He rarely came out on deck, despite everyone knowing he wasn’t really Captain Nadir, and so I just made sure not to go to the captain’s quarters. Marjani didn’t like it, but she put up with it, sending word through one of the crew to come meet her at the helm whenever she needed me.
One afternoon I was sitting up in the rigging, watching the waves break up against the side of the boat. Wasn’t much work to be done that day; the breeze was just enough to glide us along. The ropes cradled me as I leaned back and blinked up at the bright blue sky.
Everything was beautiful enough for me to forget my troubles.
And then I felt a tension in the ropes. A tug.
“Who is it?” I called out. My shift wasn’t over till sunset, but it could’ve been one of Marjani’s messengers. The ropes tugged again, and then I knew who it was. I couldn’t say how. I just knew.
Naji climbed up onto the yard, his dark hair appearing first, and then his mask, and then his dark clothes. My heart started pounding, but I didn’t say anything, just watched him climb. When he finished, he tottered back and forth, one hand clinging to the mast, watching me.
We sat in silence for a long time, the wind whistling around us.
I could hardly stand it. Everything up here in the rigging was bright – the white sails, the sunlight. And then Naji had to show up, a dark imperfection.
“You sure you should be out of your cabin?” I asked, hoping if I said something he’d go away. “Not really Captain Nadir’s style, you know.”
Naji shifted his weight, looking uneasy. “I’m not Captain Nadir.” He took a deep breath. “Ana
I shrugged.
“About–” He edged forward on the mast, moving closer to me. I pulled myself in like I could disappear.
He stopped.
“We still have two more tasks to complete,” he said. “And you clearly can’t stand the thought of my company.”
I looked away from him, out to sea.
“If this is what you want,” he said, “to sleep down below, and to spend your days in the rigging – then it’s fine, for our time on the ship.” His voice wobbled when he said fine, like he didn’t mean it. I looked at him, not sure what I expected to see. What I found was an intensity in his expression. A hopelessness, maybe.